In my Mind
by Nyita7
Summary: Sam's the new girl... and Danny can't get his mind off of her. And vice versa. But even though the two of them have no idea, when Sam rents Jazz's old room and gets closer to the family, she risks being killed... if she finds out the secret... Typical DXS
1. Chapter 1

* * *

_**--IN MY MIND--**_

**-CHAPTER 1-**

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He looked up at her face, flushed angrily pink, her hair dropping into her eyes. She pushed it back instinctively and unconsciously, glaring at the scrap of paper that she held between two black nails.

She stared at it for a few seconds, then crumpled it up and, twisting in her seat, chucked it into the garbage can. When she twisted back, she grabbed her soda and, looking up, locked onto his face. Ice blue eyes widened for a second as the owner realised that he had been caught- and then tore away quickly from the cool, if not slightly surprised amethyst ones of Sam Manson.

He blushed angrily, thankful the redness creeping up his neck was all that could be visible. He would have cried if she had seen him with a face like a beetroot.

Well, maybe not.

But he would have been- what was the word Lancer has used? Oh, yeah. _Mortified._ It would have been just the thing to boost his confidence: the girl that the school dork had been caught staring at saw him practically internally bleeding. Glancing at his friend Tucker, across the table, he allowed a small smile, being silently thankful that he didn't possess the flush of his best friend. Tucker didn't really mind, though. Since they had passed 15, he had become less weak of a girl magnet, and his current girlfriend thought it "cute" whenever he blushed. Or, to put it more accurately, whenever he managed to secretly stop the world, cover his face with pinky-red Magic Marker, and unfreeze it again.

Then Danny stopped thinking random thoughts, and shook his head wildly, trying to clear it. He felt strange- as though somebody had poured a load of syrup in one ear- _cold_ syrup, at that. Before he could do anything else (including trying to duck down so that he could try and erase the fact that Sam most probably saw him shaking like a wet dog) he felt an icy shudder creep up each jutting-out bone of his spine, along the underside of his mouth, and come out with his breath, emerging as a lazy blue spiral of steamy smoke.

Tucker looked up, his mouth bulging with French fries, each one dripping with ketchup. Curiously, none of the girlfriends seemed to mind the caveman eating habits, which had… _not_ improved from freshman year. He opened his mouth slightly, causing a fry (and a generous amount of ketchup) to drop onto the cardboard packaging.

"_Ghost_," he murmured, swallowing hurriedly, and reaching into his backpack to check that the thermos was in there.

"Yeah." Danny was up like a shot, his eyes flashing slightly. Just what he needed- the perfect fight to rid his mind of the syrup-y feeling and- though he didn't admit it to the more conscious part of his mind- to rid his mind of daydreaming about Sam.

Tucker and Danny walked out of the cafeteria, passing close by the table where Sam was sitting. She was new- Danny had found out her name only a couple of weeks ago- and she was a Goth. Her black hair, cut stylishly above her neck, clashed in a deep way with her purple lipstick and eggplant eyeliner. She was wearing a tiny black tank top, and a pretty plaid miniskirt. Black combat boots and striped knee socks completed the obvious evil-schoolgirl effect. She was alone at the table, and was obviously still angry for that unknown reason about the mysterious piece of paper.

Normally, Danny avoided these kinds of girls, as they had somewhat of a bad reputation. But she was different. This was more than a little kiddie crush- and… WAIT. Danny stopped his train of thoughts at a 200 mile an hour chase. _Crush_? He hadn't had one of those for a while… and heck, he had only just looked at the girl! Startled by this realisation, he thought back to his last crush, Paulina. Nah, he had figured late in sophomore year that she was just pretty on the outside. (_Took a while_, Tucker had joked, who had gone off Paulina when he had started dating the first in a long succession of girlfriends.) Valerie? Nah, she wouldn't need a reason to kick his butt whenever they met, ghost boy or not, after she discovered the secret. Luckily, her dad had scored a job guarding alien experimentation in Kauai. She wouldn't trouble Danny again, not for a while.

And how many times had he even _seen_ the girl? Maybe a couple of times at the park, on a bench reading, and a few glances at the skating rink. And, at school? Barely anytime, except at lunches…

So why was he even doing this? Danny blinked ice eyes, barely noticing where he was going. As a result, he crashed into a potted plant that was used to mask the smell coming from the trash cans, outside of the door.

"Daniel, please watch where you are going." This time, it was that tired-sounding voice that snapped Danny from his daydream. Lancer loomed in front of the doorway, one eyebrow raised a little. Three years at Casper High, and Lancer had still never greeted him as though in any way he was pleased to see him. Well. Most of the time, no one had a reason to be impressed anyway.

"Uh, yeah, Lan- I mean, Mr. Lancer," Danny muttered, looking out to the window on the east side, where he could sense the ghost activity was growing more and more. "See you, in, um, class…"

"Indeed." The teacher had both eyebrows raised now, and was looking as tired as his voice. He sighed, and looked over at the packed cafeteria, where the hundreds of kids milled around, eating and throwing food and generally making enough noise to be kicked out of whatever dorm most seniors would be in next year. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tucker Foley shrug something under his jacket and Danny Fenton mutter something to him, before they both ran out of the cafeteria.

Lancer sighed a little heavier. "_Only a few more months of this school…_" he thought to himself, the one eyebrow going up unemotionally, and a dreamy look in his eye. "_Then I'll be out of Casper High for good_…"

Something poked his memory a little. He frowned, thinking, as he noticed a familiar blue shape zoom past the window, and registered the kids getting up to look. _Funny… how Fenton is so very much like… _Phan_tom_…

Shaking his head and doing his customary sigh, Lancer walked out of the cafeteria to the Nurse's office. _I gotta do _some_thing about this headache_…

Sam angrily gulped down the last dregs of her soda. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes registering a table-full of girls staring at her, eyebrows raised and whispering.

She knew what they were saying amongst themselves. _"Who's_ she_?" "Those rags are like what my sister wore in 2__nd__ grade when she played a skunk…" "I've heard her parent's own that estate…Rowleyn Castle., or something, in New York City!" "Well, what's she doing _here_?"_ Although they were at least two tables away, Sam heard them perfectly.

She thought again of the letter her parents had sent her, the words almost emanating out of the trash can behind her, poking her on the back of the neck and sending more hot bursts of anger into her heart. She thought of her grandma, back in New York.

She thought of the letter.

_Dear Samantha,_

_We regret to say that your grandmother has had a violent heart attack, and will not be able to accommodate you in her house anymore, as she will likely die in a few months, and the point will be spent._

_Although our hearts are filled with sadness at this turn of events, we have to remind you that you will need to look for suitable accommodation in Amity, as we are going to be in L.A. for the rest of the fortnight, then back to Switzerland at the end of the month._

_Apologies for this dreadful turn of events, and we will be awaiting your answer soon._

_Sincerely, Mother and Father._

_PS. We apologise for not being able to turn up to see you at the end of the month. I and Jeremy are extraordinarily busy with things we must attend to. An inconvenience, yes, but arranging for your grandmother's grave in the family plot must be done._

Biting her lip, Sam held back tears. Her grandma, the only one who ever understood her, was going to die. And her parents had written a letter to _her_ as they would a foreign business person! Other things to attend to? No, thought Sam, fuming. All they want is to get tanned in LA and then ask a solicitor to arrange for the funeral!

Sam buried her face in her hands. Having to come to Amity straight out of the hustle and bustle of New York, where everyone looked at everyone else but didn't really care what they looked like- except, maybe, at school- to Amity, who's every resident had at least five things to say about one random person off the streets.

She sighed heavily. _"I hate this school. No-one here seems to- well, have personalities. Other than mimicking Barbie dolls_"- she looked over at the girl named Paulina's table, grimacing_-"…and that's definitely _not_ much of a personality."_

Then she thought again. There had been one person- a boy. Sam silently scolded herself, as she had always been a firm believer in just taking to the studies and ignoring the male gender as a whole.

But this boy- he had a _spirit_. He had an aura about him- Sam didn't know what it was, but she felt almost awakened when she had, unapologetically found him staring at her. Even now, a few minutes later, she found herself thinking of how cute it was when he widened his eyes a little- ice blue eyes- and turned away. She thought again, biting her bottom lip slightly and showing a hint of a smile, of the slight blush that had crept up his neck. _So __**sweet**_, Sam thought…

Then she snapped back to reality. _No_, Sam, she told herself. _No boys. Just do the work, concentrate, and then you may be out of Amity- for _good. But, absent-mindedly, Sam couldn't stop thinking of the way he had crashed into the potted plant near the exit. It was comic, yet surprisingly cute.

She picked up her fork, and stabbed at a piece of lettuce on her plate, wincing as the fork squeaked along the plastic rim. She wondered vaguely, eyes stinging as her mind turned back to the letter, whether she would see the boy again. She doubted it. In her past week or so at Amity, Sam had only seen other kids in her year at lunch, and there were two different lunch periods. Wondering dimly why she was thinking so much of a boy she had known- wait! She didn't even know him, not really- for the space of five seconds, she stared out of the window. She murmured, barely conscious of what she was saying, "_Maybe it won't be __**so**__ bad, if he is here_…"

A blue streak whooshed past the window, causing half a dozen kids to rush over and stare, and making Sam start, right out of her daydream.

* * *

**So, how'd you like it? It took less than an hour to write (mainly because I was watching video after video on YouTube and also snacking liberally on Double-Stuf mint Oreos… yep, I DID turn to the dark side of writer's block, and brought back some of the cookies! And, also, that I am a slow typist- two fingers, baby :D)**

**Nyita7**


	2. Chapter 2

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* * *

_--IN MY MIND--_

**-CHAPTER 2-**

* * *

_A stretch of vast ocean_

_Fills my mind_

_With colours, sweet, joyful colours,_

_They blend into mine_

_For my girl, she's got those colours,_

_Right in her eyes_

_But not on a calm sunny day_

_No, just when_

_storm clouds arise…_

Danny stopped, letting the gentle hum of the guitar fade until it finally stopped resonating in his mind. He, too, hummed- almost silently- along with it, then stopping and looking heavenward. The scrap of paper with the song on his desk quivered slightly.

This felt like one of his best songs. He'd taken to guitar after a fight with Ember, who'd dropped _her_ guitar onto his head. This sudden and rather bumpy first meeting grew, bizarrely, to a passion (Tucker would say, and did say, obsession) for the guitar. He had no interest in the electric variety- no, that hurt his head a little when playing. He was a little wary of such big noises coming from the thin strings.

But he didn't mind _listening_ to it, like, on CDs.

As he listened to the after-hum, where there was no audible noise, he felt like punching something. Why did he keep thinking about her? He knew that the song was about her, oh, of course. Those purple eyes... yeah, that was it. But why? He had even called her his girl, in that song, and, to his common knowledge, he'd never had a girlfriend. Well. Not a real one, though Phantom had dozens of chicks flocking after him every day. Human Danny, though, he never got a girl. But now he was doing guitar more openly, he figured that the girls would, soon, come. Maybe.

This was his second year playing the thing, and only his first month or so actually composing music. It had taken a while, but Danny had soon carried all the full notebooks, stuffed in his locker, back home. Unlike what some teachers thought, they weren't full of _school_ notes. No. They _were_ packed -full of poems.

His songs.

Danny had always harboured a secret passion for writing, but secret _was_ the word. He never even told Tucker, and now, when Tucker and his latest girl heard the songs that Danny composed, Tuck just figured that it was from 'The Book'. Not that Danny ever said anything about this mysterious book.

But while at least the contents of fifteen of his eighteen or so notebooks (freshman-sophomore year) flunked when it came to changing them to actual songs that Danny could sing, and like singing, the few songs he had left over were okay. But, to put it simply, his increase in English marks since freshman year were only because of the few poems he had put in his school books- and those few were also most of what he could actually call songs. If not all.

Sighing, and putting his guitar on the bed, he reached over and pulled a plastic box out from underneath. In it were the notebooks and, pulling one out, he lay down on his stomach on the bed and began to flip through it. The first one he stopped at made him smile. Truthfully, although now he truly did _not_ like Paulina, for her looks any more than her brain capacity, one of the first, quite selfish and shallow reasons he had gone off her was because of something that he and Tucker had, unfortunately, found out.

That girl sits by the shore

Dreaming 'bout who knows what

And heck, does she know to snore…

That was the only one he had shown Tucker, making that the only poem he had ever showed anybody. Pausing before turning the page, Danny pulled out a pen and scribbled, 'PAULINA: REVEALED' on top of the page. Then, smiling, he turned it. The next page was not originally from this book, and looked to have been the victim of a trash can more than once. It was not, either, in Danny's messy scrawl. It was in a messier scribble.

Jazz

Jazz

Man, she's sweet

W'Never I came over

She'd give me a treat…

Making faces

Me and my friend

She never noticed, or she'd be

Off-eeee-nded…

Danny laughed at Tucker's first and last poem. Although it was fine (most importantly, to the English teacher then), he had not seen that, and Danny rescued it from being taken off the incinerator a couple of times, before he had finally, unbeknownst to Tucker, stapled it into his notebook. Even now, Danny never really knew why Tucker had lengthened the last word like that. Not for the first time, he noticed that the beginning sounded a little like "George of the Jungle".

Tucker explained that he had been going through a phase back then.

After reading a few more early pieces, Danny closed the book, and thought back to his newest one. Without trying, he knew where his inspiration had come from.

_And __**why**__? _He asked himself repeatedly._ I'm never gonna, like, talk to her… A face! That's all she was. One in a hundred!_

_One_ of_ a hundred…_

"Aargh!" Danny slapped himself. "I _gotta_ stop thinking about her… and what the heck's with those eyes, anyway? Why are they _purple_?"

He thought back to her face, crimson with rage. Then he had a strange feeling that caused his brain to whirr. He wondered whether…_ just maybe, she had seen him go past outside the window? I-in ghost form? Maybe?_

Then Danny put a hand to his frowning mouth. Was he just thinking about showing off? To someone who'd never even seen or heard the tales about Amity Park and its ghosts, he was pretty sure. He sighed. "I mean, the girl's been here, like, what, two days? Three, tops? It's been a slow week. She wouldn't have noticed me- well, she wouldn't have known it was me, of course…" He broke off, laughing, then, catching himself, stopped suddenly.

"_Aargh_!" Rubbing his shoulder absent-mindedly, where he had patched it up that day from a blast from Skulker, he stomped toward the window and, kneeling, looked out into the velvet night. The stars winked at him through the deepness of the dark, and made his head feel drowsy. A little… too drowsy.

His head slipped past his shoulders, and landed with a _whoosh_ on the sill. As the foamy blue gas washed around his head, around his room, closing him in, he heard a soft voice, his own, in the back of his head… "_Amethyst… not purple_…"

"_Aaaarhh_…" Danny moaned a last, soft tune before drowning into unconsciousness.

The notebook on his bed slipped off the end, falling with a faint _plop_ onto the floor.

Sam closed her bedroom window. The air outside was extremely humid, and made her feel stuffy.

"_Ha ha, doesn't happen too much_," Sam murmured to herself, smiling a little as she looked around her room. Black was obviously the more favourable of the colours.

She flopped down onto her gothic-style bed. The tall, black mahogany pillars gleamed in the faint light from the evening sky, which had turned scarlet as the sun was setting.

She looked at her ceiling. Cheap, glow-in-the-dark stars were stuck onto a piece of paper, which was in the shape of a heart. It wasn't a usual choice for people like her, but Sam remembered what she used to be like. A little, pig-tailed girl in flowery dresses, who skipped around without a care in the world, loving her mommy and daddy. She drew hearts everywhere, big pink ones, then stuck them onto her dresses.

Sam sighed, remembering when she had first seen Goths like her, at school. She had become obsessed by this, and it immediately took her over. But she personalised her look, keeping it within school boundaries. Sam wasn't a troublemaker.

And she had kept the heart, not wanting to lose herself in the hands of 'maturity', no matter what boundaries of 'coolness' and popularity' came with it. She'd never invited anybody into any of her houses, and she doubted anyone would want to go.

"Speaking of houses…" Sam got up from the bed and sat at the computer, typing in an address. She had found a suitable place to live in, when her parents went to Switzerland: her grandma's. But now that that plan was scrapped, she was looking to whatever her wallet would allow, seeing as her parents weren't exactly coughing up.

And that seemed to be, putting it simply, 'ROOMS FOR RENT'.

She had found two in Amity Park: one right in front of the school (She decided to let that one go, so as not to be teased _too_ publicly. Because she knew that that was what was going to happen.)

The other was a little ways away, near the Park. She was visiting that one at 8, having already called. It was the room of an eighteen-year-old, at college earlier than expected. She had received ten mouthfuls of this over the phone, as the mother was obviously proud. It had an en-suite bathroom, and a separate set of stairs to go to the kitchen. "But," the mother had warned quickly, "They are a little… um… unsafe, dear. You see, it was a little accident that caused the stairs to, um, malfunction and…"

She had learned that there was a boy in the house: "Just your age, too! Sixteen. A little early for, um, rooms, though, hm?"

Sam had hung up fifteen minutes after she'd expected to make the call.

She sat at her chair for a while, not noticing the steady darkness creeping into the sky, until she jumped as her watched started beeping.

"Ten to eight! Oh, god…"

She rushed out of the house and made it to Jasper Road a minute before eight.

The door opened with a flourish, and also, weirdly, and few whirrs and beeps. It was only then that Sam noticed how weird of a house it was. Underneath, it looked just as boring and grey-bricked as the rest of the houses along the road, but on top… well, it looked like a mad scientist field day was going on.

The whole building was coating in a shiny but clear goop, and electricity seemed to emanate from it. The roof was normal, but above… it was bizarre. A huge, spherical shape ballooned out into the sky, complete with different gadgets popping out all over. Sam saw that it was actually a weird oblong extension, complete with glassy windows and, she could see, lights on inside.

A lone satellite stood in the midst of the thing, looking strangely out of place with the building's "attic" but somehow fitting, like: _everything is weird, so something normal is weirder still_. It made Sam breathe a sigh of content, though. If she was gonna live in this 'house' for a little while, then at least they had a TV.

"Welcome! Er- Sunni?"

"Sam, actually. And, hello," Sam said, repeating the speech she had rehearsed over and over, keeping it cool, although her heart was beating rapidly. She had never been able to breathe steadily when talking to strangers.

"Hello, Sam. Would you like to see the room?"

"Okay, sh-sure." Sam tried to get over her nervousness, and said, "Nice place you've got here."

The big man boomed a hearty laugh, and Sam realised that she had not even properly seen this guys yet. The woman was wearing a strange green suit… Hazmat? And so was the guy. He was a little… big, and towered over the girls. His orange suit, however, didn't seem to come with the goggles that the lady with the red hair was wearing. Somehow, both of them… reminded her of something… some_one_?'

_Jeesh, how many people do I need to know_, thought Sam as she followed the two up the stairs.

She looked around wonderingly at the décor. Mainly, she was amazed because there were: none. Well, nothing over-zealous, anyway. Like at her house.

"I like the… layout," she said, immediately regretting it. It sounded really snobby, she realized, thinking to herself, _Whoa girl! I sound like a Realtor! No. Not a good thing. Stop it. Stop it right-_ "Er… what I mean is… the way everything is where it is good like it's supposed to be…uh…?"

The big man let out a booming laugh. "She's gotta lot a' spunk in her, Maddie. Good for Danny- he's been down lately."

"Yes, dear."

They had reached the second floor, and were entering Jasmine's (her mom had said 'Jazz') room. It was small and neat, with heavy oak armoires and a full-length mirror on the back on the door.

Sam stepped in front of the mirror, trying not to look as if she knew perfectly well what she was doing. She noted her 'dress-up' look: a sleeveless black T-shirt, black-and-green plaid capris, and Earthwise sandals. She wiggled her painted toenails. Dark purple. Mm.

"So, Sam–" The woman said, startling her out of her fashion show. "–why don't you tell us why you need a room? Parents on an anniversary? How long do you plan to stay here for?"

"Uh… a-about a month, or two, I guess… my parents… yeah…" her voice weaned away, feeling intruding to stay as, basically, a tag-along teen for so long.

Also embarrassed that she couldn't say of the whereabouts of her mom and dad.

"Great! You'll be here in time for our special Christmas reunion!"

"Uh… really? That'd… be nice," she said, uncertainly.

"Yes, we're having relatives fly over from all over, like Jack's- that's my husband- brother in Australia, and my cousin in Canada… it'll be great!"

"Sure," Sam murmured. "So… I guess I'll pay you now?"

Ten minutes later, Sam was walking down the sidewalk, the night air brushing her with wind dipped in ice.

She looked back at the strange house. It was funny to think that, in less the three days, she would be moving in there.

She looked up at 'her' room. The cardboard sign in the window had been taken down, which had said: ROOM FOR RENT. DOLLAR PER DAY! Jack and Maddie Fenton had explained to her that they had originally put the sign up fro a joke, and the ads, but they never expected anyone to actually answer.

"It seems," Maddie had said, looking around at her house, "That most people don't want to stay here! Strange, isn't it, Jack?"

The man had laughed his odd, hearty guffaw.

Now Sam saw something else. Under the window on the other side of the house, there was a tall, wooden thing- it took a while to realise what it was. Then she saw.

"A trellis! With ivy!" In all the romantic movies she had ever seen (up to now, three) there had been a trellis of some sort, with young men climbing up to serenade the girl.

Sam had always, ever since she watched Romeo and Juliet, wanted to do that. (The version was a little different from the actually play). Not serenade, of course (though she didn't think that she'd mind) but climb.

So, she took the risk, ran over, and started to.

It was harder than she had thought. The ivy tickled her, and she began to feel sore on one exposed leg. _Poison ivy, probably… oh man!_ Luckily, the trellis wasn't balanced against the wall, but nailed with hooks into the brick. And it wasn't just a flimsy, cheap thing, either. It was strong- and splintery. There were dying flowers on the top, and when Sam brushed them away, she felt a chill as water stored in the petals from the light rain the night before dripped onto her leg. Luckily it soothed the soreness.

_Why did I let myself do this?_ Sam thought crazily, as a wind started to blow and she froze up. She kept thinking the same seven words, until, finally, her head popped over the edge, and her body froze up with a different sensation than when the wind blew.

It was a boy.

_The _boy… The boy in the cafeteria! The cute one… the one she couldn't stop thinking about! This was _his_ house! This was… her blood almost drained out completely- this was _his room_! His trellis! He probably used it to escape grounding, or something.

Oh, god, oh god oh god oh god… If he looked up from where he was on his bed, then she'd be dead! Sam didn't know too much about boys- except that her older brother, James Van (25, living in Europe, an adopted brother anyway) was really annoying the last time she'd seen him- five years ago.

After several minutes of paper bag-less hyperventilating, Sam hesitantly peered over the edge. All her instincts held her back- except one. Curiosity and uncertainty.

Something was… unnatural. The boy was almost thrown backwards on his bed- lying with one arm jauntily over his face, his legs bent strangely.

_Too_ strangely.

That was all it took. Sam used her last strength, and heaved herself up into the bedroom.

Her first thought was, _"Wow, it's __**cold**__…" _Then she realised where she was and said, _"Ack! What the heck am I doing?!" _Then, finally noticing the form on the bed, she thought, _"What… why… oh man…_"

She walked over a little slowly to the bed, as though she was in a fever dream. The boy was lying as cold as- for some reason, she didn't want to say it. Like it was a curse, or something. His face was a pale blue… and his eyes were shut tight.

She gingerly leaned over and pulled up one eyelid. It didn't take a graduate in a RAF Base's Health and Safety Course in France to know what was wrong, but she was, and she did. He wasn't sleeping- or dead. Unconscious, yes. Lifting up his head, Sam saw, to her shock: a jagged cut stretched across his neck, bleeding slightly. A small line of blood had formed on the duvet.

_God, what happened to you, kid?_

She looked up and stared around the room wildly, looking for something that she doubted could be in there- but it was.

Sticking out under the bed was a rather large yet compact white box. A big red cross was stuck on it, peeling off at the ends. _Didn't expect to find one of_ these_ in here_, she mused, reaching down and grabbing it. Once on the bed, she ripped it open.

And stared.

Rolls of pink gauze were packed tightly into the front of the box, most of them ripped and… bloody. Although Sam prided herself on being unmoved by the sight of blood, it struck her as unnatural that it did not completely dry brown- instead, among the patches of rusty colour, she saw, blinking, almost emerald flashes.

A sickening, bloody emerald, dark and gooey.

Shuddering, she pushed past the rolls and looked for antiseptic. She found a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and dabbed it onto the wound. There were no cotton balls, so Sam had to use bits of the bloody gauze. She was almost glad that the boy was unconscious- but she jumped at every little noise, as though he was suddenly going to wake up and scream at the sting.

_And no wonder I'm nervous, _Sam realised, as she put away the bottle._ Hello! I'm in somebody's house here! I'm trespassing! Oh god_, she thought, as the nature of the situation flew back to her. _How can I just leave him here?_ And then, a new thought struck her. _If I go down now, what'll the Fenton's think? Oh god, they'll wonder how the hell I got into this guy's room in the first place!_

She swore under her breath, not something she usually did, and sat on the bed. Looking at the boy, she trained her gaze on the corner of his left t-shirt sleeve. Something was sticking out, unnaturally. Reaching over without one hesitation, she pulled it back, and realised where all the gauze had gotten to.

The boy had wrapped it around his shoulder haphazardly, making it bulge out at odd angles and, although hidden by the sleeve, stain a little.

Sam was suddenly struck by a thought. She had never, ever thought of being really close with guys. They were just there, and all. No big deal.

But as she looked at Danny, she felt a sort of lightness in her chest. As though, maybe a weight was being lifted- and another weight, the heaviness of no burden at all, deposited. _Jeez, just a couple days ago I was the schools top get-out-you're-in-my-way girl. What's happening?_ Sam wondered, biting her bottom lip slightly, whether she should fix the bandage. She wouldn't take his shirt off, nooo way, but just- lift it up a bit and then adjust the fabric. She wasn't sick, she was just concerned.

Ten minutes later, Sam had pushed Danny's head onto the pillow and sort of thrown his cover on top. The bandage was fixed; the kit put away- the problem over.

She sighed, and looked out of the window. Darkness had fallen. She decided to call a cab to take her back home, when she noticed a scrap of paper on the desk by the door.

_I shouldn't. Stop being an idiot, Sam… don't you dare… oh no…_

She crossed the room and grabbed the slip. _What's happening? I'm totally being intrusive… ok, you know what, fine. Last thing. Last-_

She stared at the paper. Among tightly jottings of musical notes (she recognized some notes- but she, to her sorrow, had never truly learned to read music), there was a paragraph, no more- of a poem. A _song_?

"Wow, he's musical, too," Sam thought, smiling faintly. "… As cute as he has talents…" She started to read, a little embarrassed in case someone was watching her.

_Colours… sweet, joy… my girl… she has those eyes… my girl… my girl…_

So he already had a girl.

Sam threw the paper back on the desk, launched herself out of the window, barely grabbing the fence as she slid down, and ran out of the yard, out of that part of town, forgetting about the cab.

As the boy in his bed groaned softly, but stayed asleep, a sixteen-year-old girl was unlocking her front door and barging to her room, ghosts of tears still visible on her cheeks.

* * *

**In case you are wondering about all those songs up there, I did not compose them (except the first one), my friend did, but I have played them on my guitar. Incidentally, the snoring one was originally written about my dad. But, you know, what the heck.**

**So, how was it?**

**1) Too detailed?**

**2) Boring??**

**3) Too long? (Yeah, longer than the first one, and I know I have Sam featured more than Danny in it, but, hey, he was knocked out. He didn't feel that cut, though…)**

**4) Who should be featured more? Yeah, Danny was knocked out for most of that chapter. Tucker isn't much of the story… yet. Sam's parents are featured as spoiled idiots who don't give a care for their daughter, or mom, and yeah…**

**5) Any ideas?? (Extra question marks)??**

**6) Big THANK YOU to my first three reviewers, ****KHFREAK14****, ****dessyweird51****, and ****IloveDerekandCasey****. Mint Double-Stuf Oreos rule!!**

**7) And sorry if you think I made spelling mistakes, like colour with a u. That's how my country spells it. No problem with that! (??)**

**8) Constructive Criticism ONLY, thank ya. Thank ya very much. (um. Okay.)**

**Nyita7**


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

**_--IN MY MIND--_**

CHAPTER 3

* * *

Danny groaned. For some reason, he felt smothered.

Then he realised that his blanket was on top of him.

This was the first weird sign. Danny never, ever put the blanket over his head. He always felt like he was drowning, so usually his mom (to his continual embarrassment whenever he had Tucker over for a sleepover) tucked it under his chin. The second weird sign was on the back of his neck. It felt rough, and sore. Inching over to the mirror above his desk, (which was basically a large hand mirror, bought at the CheapPlace for looking to see if he was growing a moustache yet. Yeah. Not so much) he turned his head slightly.

And saw what appeared to be a long, patchy scar. He touched it. It felt familiar, and Danny realised how. This was how all his scars from ghost-fighting and Dash ducking felt after he had put the rubbing alcohol on them.

_But I don't remember this scar… I don't even remember getting into bed_! Danny felt really scared now. He usually had a crystal clear memory.

_What happened last night? Remember… Remember_... It was then that he noticed the next weird thing.

His shoulder felt very... neat. Looking down, almost frightened at what he might see, he noticed that his and Tucker's botched job of bandaging his shoulder during the fight with Skulker the previous day had been, miraculously, fixed. Instead of making him look like he was trying to start a new trend with shoulder pads, it was almost invisible.

_Ok... this is it! I'm going crazy! No. Something weird is definitely happening, now... something totally crazy, not me..._ Danny stopped, and considered. _Ghosts may try to kill me when I'm sleeping... cowardly, but not improbable... they may know I hate a blanket over my head, so maybe that was to try and give whatever they might have put in me via the scar thing a kick... but they don't fix the scars made by them from bleeding, or fix bandages that are their fault... no__... If it is a ghost..._

Pleased with his deducting, but still suspicious and, having got nowhere in solving this mystery yet, confused, Danny sat on the bed with a thump.

Something wasn't right, other than the first weird things... Something...

Thinking hard, and listening to the bacon his mother was making downstairs spit on the pan, he looked down.

The first-aid kit was sticking out from under his bed.

Jumping to his feet and blinking in surprise, Danny could only stare for a moment. Then he pulled out the kit, whacked it onto the bed, and opened it.

At first glance, nothing seemed amiss. Then he saw that the antiseptic bottle lid had been roughly pushed back on, and some gauze had been torn off. The bits were, he soon found, in the bin by the door. There was some sickening green dried stuff on it. Ecto-blood. _His_ ecto-blood.

His blood ran a little cooler. In fact, ten degrees lower and his body would force the change into ghost, to keep his human form from freezing to death. Even now, he was shaking slightly.

It was more than being scared when fighting ghosts. Somebody had been prying into his stuff. Someone could have killed him when he slept... why had he never thought of that before? He felt like an idiot...

_That ghost might've just wanted to help me, though_, he found himself thinking._ After all, there were a few nice ghosts. The Dairy King, for one._

But what if it wasn't a ghost?

_Man, I'm being paranoid, Danny thought to himself. Of course it was a ghost. Who else could have got up to my room? _As he thought of the trellis he so often used to escape punishment by climbing down, just outside his window, way before he got his powers, his heart sank a little. But he didn't admit anything to himself just yet.

Danny barrelled out of his room as though he was six years old again, and slid down the banister. He glanced at his sister's bedroom, empty and forlorn, and noticed something unusual, which blew away the Weird Things thoughts of the morning. The sign in the window had been taken down. Of course, his mom might've done that. There were creepy characters in Amity Park, and he wouldn't be surprised if a few had swaggered up to their front door, demanding the room.

Of course, maybe they wouldn't have. His mom was a black belt in various forms of martial arts. The guys would run off crying like babies.

Then _again_, not too many people would come to the house. It had a strange reputation of being... strange.

Maybe his dad had grown tired of publicising the house. After all, 'DOLLAR A DAY' rent hadn't been seen in Amity since the Depression, and even then it was more for those _willing_ to pay. It had appeared in a joke column in the Amity Chat, an online newspaper focusing on the tales going around. It featured a whole section dedicated to 'Inviso-Bill'... the GHOSTLY CHAT.

But there was also the obvious reason, Danny pondered, biting his lip as he scaled the rest of the stairs, four at a time, jumping into the air at the end and staying there for five seconds like some sort of no-armed no-anything no-chin-up, and falling to the ground ever-so-slightly winded afterwards. Maybe somebody had rented the room. It had never actually been put in the best care... uh, no. Well. Not since Jazz had moved out, at the beginning of the school year, when she had- entrusted it to his care. Her goldfish he had seen when he went through the portal a few weeks later, floating forlornly and glaring at him as he glided past and, basically, her room was going to seed. Half the plants she had bought in the hope of brightening things up had died.

Danny wondered what kid would possibly want a room in his house. I mean, he thought, shaking his head, crinkling his eyes and biting the inside of his cheeks as he smiled, no-one who knows the place would come here. Not after the stories... and the cold, hard facts.

Something tingled in the back of his memory. Danny ignored it. As he passed the basement door, he was reminded of when he first, over two years ago, got his powers.

_Tucker was bugging him. "Get _off_, Tuck," Danny whispered, as his best friend tried to take a picture of him, pushing his shoulder down to get a close-up of his face. "Stop it."_

_"Whatever." Tucker turned off the camera, though. Danny could get mad, and even though he wasn't anyone really special, Tucker had always thought he had the guts and the muscle to beat him- beat anyone- up... even though Danny could barely lift his computer. Although that had never happened, Tucker liked to stay on his gut feeling side._

_It sounded like a rainstorm outside, and it was battering against the aluminium walls of the basement- even though they weren't exposed to the storm. The basement was weird like that._

_Funny thing- Danny thought wonderingly, I didn't see any signs of rain outside. It seems like the noise is coming from in here... well, not IN here, but from somewhere that only one in here can hear... Puzzled by his own choice of words, and feeling kind of stupid, Danny jumped the last few steps to the basement, Tucker following behind, immersed now in his PDA. He looked up._

_"Hey, Danny, did they really build that?" Tucker's gaze was drawn to the octagonal rim of metal surrounding the cave of technology. The thing was at least more than eight feet high, and towered over the tables and work areas next to it like some crazy gargantuan bolt. Danny's parents had tried a few times to get their 'Ghost-Portal' working, but to no avail. It wouldn't start, and that- was that, it seemed. But Danny had been given strict instructions NOT to go near, in, or let anyone else in or near. The darkness of what was inside seemed to pull at his thoughts._

_But whatever was pulling his thoughts was definitely bending Danny's will. His best friend had started rushing hurriedly towards the jumpsuits, pulling one out of the open cupboard and ripping off his long-sleeved sweatshirt so he could stick his arms and legs into it. All the while Danny looked fixedly at the wide-open portal entrance. As Tucker would say to Clockwork many, many years later, something other than just hard luck pulled Danny to the portal that day._

_Tucker stared for a long moment, a few long moments, his brain skipping a few whirrs as he tried to register what was happening. It was only when Danny had stared for a long while at the picture of Jack Fenton on his black hazmat, and ripped off the picture, grabbed a marker and doodled a black 'D' onto his chest that Tucker spoke up._

_"What the hell are you doing, you idiot? You're not thinking of going in there! Are you? What the heck, you'll get fried if it shocks you or something! Danny, don't!"_

_Danny looked up, and cracked a smile. "Jeez, Tuck," he said, smiling. "You're talking to the son of two ghost-hunters. The guy who's grown up around this stuff, heard warnings tons of times- no sweat! I'll be fine, Tuck—" Danny paused and then smiled. "God, it sounds like you're never seeing me again. Well, take a good look, Tucker! Um... I guess..." He smiled faintly, and waltzed into the chamber, looking for an off/on switch. "See, Mom said that it was always turned _off_, so it should be perfectly safe. Well. Somewhat."_

_Danny wandered into the darker areas, and suddenly became immersed in the blackness. Something, something was calling to him- and, indeed, as he listened he heard, nothing in English, no... A language that he knew, soon, he would know. Not a _spoken_ language, anyway..._

_Suddenly Danny felt a strange, tingling sensation. His mouth felt hot, hotter than ever before. A shudder crept up his spine. It felt like it was awakening all of his separate ribs, joints, bones... flowing through all his veins, the heat- then, as if by magic, all dropped to the same intensity- but in the negative. His hands and feet grew colder as the rest of the temperature dropped. He began to feel scared, and put up a hand to his throat as though something was stuck there. He couldn't get it out- he pushed... harder... then he tried to swallow, but nothing happened... then, all of a sudden, he couldn't breathe at all, and sat there silently choking, convinced he would die because of an unknown presence in his own throat-_

_Then he coughed. And out of his mouth, trailing cold dregs off the tips of his teeth, a stream of blue smoke curled lazily out of his mouth, curling slowly at the end into a soft, frozen spiral._

_He cried out in shock and backed up into the wall, barely feeing it because of the numbness that had accompanied his sudden cold spell._

_But he felt the sharp edge of a handle as it cut into his back, and the hard floor as he slid down the wall with a thump, and heard the squeak of the handle as it moved down along with him, felt the warning sign to GET OUT in his brain, heard a last, strangled cry from Tucker before he was blinded- "DANNY?"_

_Light, pure light shot out from everywhere. The noise was unbearable; the pain was around him, on him, entering him, in him. Too much to handle, too much to bear. He felt the searing pain, the agonizing burn as thousands upon thousands of bursts of electricity shot themselves into his body, right into his heart, his vital organs._

_Somehow, though he felt like he should be dead long before, although the shocks had been coming on for less than three seconds, Danny had the sickening, heart-wrenching realization that he... could not die. He felt as though he was being stretched to the limits, his heart was popping, his eyes were bulging out but nothing was COMING out, and all of a sudden he was lifted into the air, green and white light surrounding him as he tried to get a firm grip on reality, on air- he actually felt the power run into his blood, merge, bursting, into his very own DNA._

_His senses were on overdrive, he was seeing, hearing, smelling things he shouldn't have before. The creak of each separate bolt in the door of his bedroom, two floors up, the sight of two beautiful dragons flying over a strange, green, floating thing in god knows where and the strange smell of popcorn from a bowl upstairs, which he had knocked to the floor when coming down with Tucker. And, Tucker. He could feel the sweat running down his friend's face, feel Tucker's eyes grow wide and heard him screaming his name, over and over and over, but if he concentrated, Danny could hear nothing while in the air. Something was, definitely, changing._

_An eternity later, Danny fell to the ground. He was light-headed, could remember nothing- tried thinking, but his brain was too sore. He felt strange feelings bubbling up in his hands, in his body, in his soul._

_He felt odd in another way, too. As though there was a part of him gone that he could never replace. As though that part would never come back- was taken out to make room, too much room for more than what he wanted, more than what he needed._

_He felt as though a responsibility had been heaped upon him._

_He felt, strangely, as though he were not alive._

_The last thing he saw was Tucker, his anxious, strangely wet face in front of him, shouting words in slow-motion that he could not hear, could not read... his head was drowsy, his eyes were closing, his voice felt liked he never needed to use it again-_

_The next thing he saw was when he woke up._

* * *

Danny shuddered, bare flickers of the horrid waves of pain emanating from his memory taunting him. He knew that he would remember more later, as his train of thought had been cut off when he smelt the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen. He ran to the kitchen, almost expecting to see that same bowl of popcorn knocked to the ground. A hazy thought was tickling him, nudging his brain a little. _I don't even know her name... she's like a... Kristy? Nah, too show-off, like the girl in one of his classes... something unique... Jayni? Rihany?_ Danny blinked. He wasn't even sure if that was a real name. He wondered why everything had a 'y' in it.

"Morning, sweetie!" his mother said cheerfully, planting a kiss on his nose. Danny didn't try to rub it off. He wanted to savour every last minute of being the little boy before he had to move out. He still couldn't believe it was his seventeenth birthday in less than a month, and felt like he was moving out of the couch he had been lazing around in for the past decade and a half, and being forced to get up and find a life.

He knew his parents would be happy to let him stay... for a while. Till he got his priorities in order. Then, he'd have to get a job and a house and a wife and kids...  
His mind screamed at him. He was growing up _too fast_... better be the kid he still could be now, while he could still be him.

Maddie Fenton set down a steaming plate of eggs and bacon in fron of him, complete with rich toast. He devoured it, wiped his mouth, then got up to change and go to school.

"Oh, Danny, honey?" his mom asked.

"Yeah, mom?"

"The room's been rented, sweetie. Better clean it up now while you can... the tenant's moving in on Friday!"

"Uh... _really_? Someone came to _this house_? And _rented _a _room_? To _stay_ in?" Danny felt slightly bewildered.

"Yes, dear. I'll expect it to be vaccuumed and clean as anything by the time I get back from Amroe."

Amroe was a small town about an hour away, and Jack and Maddie sometimes went there because of ghostly happenings.

"Um... ok." Danny turned to leave, but something stopped him. "Who is it? C-coming here?"

"_She_ is from your school, Danny, and a Junior... yes, sixteen, seventeen-ish."

Danny's mouth was hanging open, and caused his next words to mumble a bit: "M-m-_my _school? A _girl_? _HERE_?"

"I can't hear you properly, Danny, please stop letting your chin hang open so wide. Yes, Casper High, she said."

"D-do you know her name?" For some reason, Danny couldn't help stuttering.

"Um... ye-eah. Samantha. Sam, I think she prefers..."

_Sam... **not** Samantha... that's it..._

Shaking the thoughts away viciously, he asked, "When is she... er... coming?"

"_Friday_, Danny, weren't you listening? I _said_. Now, go on, the bell rings soon and you'll miss school."

* * *

Sam felt like she was in a dream. After the night at Danny's (already, her mind was getting sicker... she thought that that phrase didn't sound so bad), she had locked herself in her room, and wouldn't come out for the maid, who wanted to clean in there. "Go away," she'd shouted numerous times. Only at about 6 in the morning had Sam gotten up and showered, eaten and set off an hour early for school.

She felt so... betrayed. And stupid, because she knew that Danny probably hadn't been staring at her in wonder, or anything... but, most likely, in a sort of _who the heck is she_? attitude. And, also, because of course it wasn't like they'd been going out AT ALL. She felt pushy, and pushed away, not understood yet like the world understood her perfectly and just wanted to use the knowledge to punish her.

Walking to school at half past six made the journey five minutes longer (because of the cold wind, as well as the people who thought they were smart by getting up really early to go to work in the city and avoid traffic- like everyone else- blocking the crossings) than the usual... five minutes. She shivered in her camo khakis, and felt glad that she had decided to wear _one_ article of warm clothing- a thin yet long-sleeved hoodie.

When she came in sight of the school she looked at her watch, and frowned. Still an hour before the even the teachers would be there. Sighing forlornly, she wandered over to the park, and sat on a bench, wiggling her toes in the chill. As soon as she had sat down, the thoughts that she had tried to block by walking in cold wind, bustling traffic, and the destination of school, rushed at her.

_Of course he would have a girl, he's pretty cute, after all._

_But I wish he would be MINE, no one else's!_

_I'm being stupid. I don't even KNOW him, I've seen him, that's all. And, yeah, I'm gonna live with him soon. But still. That's even more of a reason not to get to know him better- his parents are right there!__Ugh! Now I know I'm being sick, thinking of doing stuff with him that the rents'd find out... and be embarrassed. GOD, I DON'T EVEN KNOW HIS NAME! I feel SO embarrassed, yet no-one is around to see it... so I can complain..._

"But," Sam realised suddenly. "I have no _friends_ to complain to."

Before she could wonder about this realisation that she always knew was there, a sudden blast shocked her off the bench, and she landed on her stomach onto the dew-drenched grass.

She looked up, trying to shout, exclaim _something_... but all that came out was a strangled gasp. Behind her, towering fifty feet and surrounded by electric blue radiation, was a huge... _thing!_

She didn't know what it was. But, looking through slitted eyes (the combination of bright sunlight and blue light was too much), she saw that it was composed of everyday objects. All... metallic, and electronic, she realised. Toasters, computer moniters, TVs, microwaves, in fact almost every electronic thing that somebody could find in her own house was on this... this _monster_.

Looking closer, and squinting more, she was sure she saw that connecting each and every electronic object were vibrating cords, plugged into each of the objects. As she stared, she noticed that they were all glowing, brighter and brighter, a great neon green. The cords seemed to have a life of their own: as she watched the great monster take a step, a couple of them pulled themselves out, then immediately rejoined to the spaces they had come from. _Hmm_, she thought, tilting her head. _They aren't very stable…_

She didn't have time more to think. The thing took a huge, monstrous step forwards, and almost fell over. It would have been comical to see the beast steps onto one foot and crush everything, only to have them rebuild again, but this wasn't the Sunday section of the _Amity Local_. This was real, and she could see flames leap up from the grass, singed, then die down a little. But the smell of scorched grass made her jump up and start running, with a newfound energy.

She had barely started when she heard a thunderous crash as the robot stepped again, and again-

A yell made her turn around. She saw, with wide, scared eyes, a boy dressed in black standing next to the thing, screaming at several mothers to run. His hair was white and rippling in the stiff breeze, and he was clearly not feeling the cold.

"What are you doing?" Sam screamed back at him. "You're gonna get killed!" She felt several curious gazes of flustered, but not altogether scared mothers upon her. They seemed to take the thing for granted- as though it happened a lot.

The boy turned and looked at her. For a moment she had a shock of recognition. Those eyes...

Like ice.

Sam's eyes opened wider. _No, that's not right_... The boy had white hair, and a black suit on. She couldn't imagine _him_ wearing a black- anything with his skin tone vs. hair colour.

Maybe this kid was an albino? With blue eyes?

She didn't have more time to dwell on it, though, for in that second she was knocked to the ground, her ribs protesting violently as they were almost bent with the pressure. One of the limbs- Sam didn't even know if the thing was spider-shaped or what- of the monstrous mechanical thing had whacked her in the stomach, and thrown her to the ground. But, she realised, the pressure was not as great as it should have been. Daring to look up, she was almost blinded by continuous flashes of bright green light.

_Coming from the boy_.

"Wha-"

Sam didn't have time to even think anything else. A sudden plunge into her claustrophobia made her head spin, for the last thing she saw- before she blacked out- was a wall of green, slowly rising over her head, completing an orb of neon green light that surrounded her.

And the form of something black, with glowing green fists, falling down from the sky.

* * *

**So... how'd y'all like it? This, I think, a better chap so far... I think... even if it did take me eons to upload. Sorry bout that!! Anyway, like always...**

**Was it...**

**1)Flowing well? No choppiness, or, if any, in the wrong places?  
2)Continuing from the end of the last chapter? No uncalled-for surprises that have detours from the plot?  
3)Good mention of characters? The right amount? (Speech for each, appearances of each)  
4)Bad spelling or grammar? If so, tell me where.  
5)Too much mention of some characters? Well, the story does revolve around Danny and Sam...  
6)Anything else? (Too tired to think of other questions... see last chp.)**

**Well, Thanks for reading!!**

**Hope you liked it...**

**Nyita7**


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